


you had me at hello

by isaacsmccall (orphan_account), peterlovestink



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee Shops, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/isaacsmccall, https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterlovestink/pseuds/peterlovestink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, what can I do for you?" the brunette asked, smirking a little, and maybe it was all in Troye's head, but that sounded way too sexual for normal coffee shop talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you had me at hello

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: we do not know either of the boys. this is a work of fiction. bla bla bla, the usual. don't send this to the boys or anyone associated with them. this fic has only been proof-read by us, so sorry if there are any mistakes. there probably are.
> 
> we are planning on adding timestamps to this (we already have a few ideas we're excited about) so, although it is not chaptered, there will be more fics based in this... universe. eventually.
> 
> two people wrote this (one of us wrote a few chapters, then the other, etc.,), so if it seems a bit jump-y or the flow doesn't seem right, that's probably why.
> 
> sophie's links: [tumblr](http://connorsivans.tumblr.com), [twitter](http://twitter.com/teenclones).
> 
> netta's links: [tumblr](http://happylittleconnor.tumblr.com), [twitter](http://twitter.com/peterlovestink).

“Oh my, God.” Tyler stared at him with a knowing smirk on his face. “You’re texting him now, aren’t you?”

Troye sighed. He stared at him, his face unrelenting. It took all he had not to smile, and even more not to look back to his phone. He hated it when Tyler was right. He hated it when he told Tyler something, only to have it come back and bite him in the ass – why did he tell him things again? It was pitiful, really; Troye was always the victim to Tyler’s incessant teasing.

“No, I’m not. And if I were, I definitely wouldn’t tell you.” It was a blatant lie, which would probably only lead to even more teasing, but. Whatever. He can at least try.

"Oh, come on, Troye! You have been glued to your phone ever since you got his number. And there’s been a constant smile on your face. Don’t think I don’t see these things! You can’t hide it forever. You like him!”

He hated how Tyler was like an annoying child sometimes. He really needed new friends. The sad thing is, Tyler is right. Troye hasn’t been able to get the smile off his face, but it’s totally not because a very, very, very cute boy happened to want to get to know him, who, did he mention, was cute? Totally not because of that. It’s because he’s got enough stamps to get a free coffee soon, which. He likes coffee. And God, he’s been going to the café for a while now. So if he goes again, it’s because he wants his free coffee. It’s not because there’s a new cute barista.

\--

Troye was having the worst day when he finally got to the coffee shop he always visited. So often, actually, that he knew most of the baristas by name. Knew where they were going to college and what their majors are. Only, today his day had been so shit that he was at the coffee shop several hours later than usual, and there was a completely unfamiliar barista behind the desk.

"Where's Ricky?" Troye demanded the second he got close enough to the new barista. Who, by the way, was quite cute. Not that that was relevant. Not at all. It couldn't have been a worse day for him to meet a cute barista, really. A cute barista who had probably just started here and barely knew how to make a fucking latte.

"Ricky's out. With his boyfriend. Or fiancé, whatever. They got engaged yesterday." The barista smiled, but Troye just stared at him, the words barely registering before he already forgot what the boy had even said. It really was a horrible day.

"So, what can I do for you?" the brunette asked, smirking a little, and maybe it was all in Troye's head, but that sounded way too sexual for normal coffee shop talk. It was definitely all in his head. He should stop falling in love with every cute guy he meets.

He ordered, and while the cute barista was making his drink, he finally woke up a little and noticed what the guy was wearing.

"Damn, I love that band,” he said, pointing at the London Grammar shirt, and the guy looked up surprised, then started smiling widely. 

"Yeah, it's one of my favourites. Went to their gig a few weeks ago."

"No way? At the club nearby? I was there, too."

"Oh." The guy was now beaming so hard it looked painful. For some odd reason, Troye still liked his smile. "That's cool. By the way, I'm Connor."

Troye shakes the offered hand, introducing himself. "Hi, nice to meet you, I'm--"

"Troye, yeah. Ricky told me about you. Apparently you are his favourite customer." Connor laughed at Troye's confused face. "We live together, and it came up while talking about work. I promise, we're not stalking you."

Troye laughed, too, but stayed silent, because he had no clue how to answer to that. This day was so weird. After a moment of awkward silence, Connor turned around and finished his drink. Troye thanked him, paid and found a seat for himself. It was both good and bad that he could see Connor directly from his seat.

\--

Troye woke up from a weird dream about meeting a barista and, God. He needs to stop falling asleep in weird positions. It does nothing for making his muscles – or lack of – less knotted. He doesn’t know why he can’t just fall asleep in his bed (apart from the fact that it’s miles away – sue him for being dramatic – from where he usually sits at his table, doing work, and it’s just a long trek, really. Who can blame him?)

He lifts his head up, his eyes barely open, rubbing the remainder of sleep from his eyes. And, okay. This does not look like his place. This is definitely not his place – there aren’t any clothes all over the floor for one, and there definitely isn’t a bed. This place smells too strongly of coffee and has much nicer decorations. Plus, there’s a cute guy looming over him – Connor, the boy from his not-dream, he remembers – who has his hand extended from where Troye assumes he poked him.

This is not a good look by any means, especially not in front of potential crushes. He needs to stop being so embarrassing. Right now would be a good time as any for there to be a hole in the ground. Maybe he would prefer it if there were vicious, hungry dogs in there, too, than having to be in this situation.

Connor just smiles at him brightly, mockingly. Why does Troye have to be that guy that falls asleep in public? Everybody hates those guys. Connor probably thinks he’s some weird, sleepless kid. Not that that would be wrong, but. Whatever.

“Uh, sorry to wake you. You looked really peaceful and I didn’t want to, so I left you for a while. But I have to close up soon, so. Yeah. Sorry.”

He looks like he’s blushing, which is odd, considering Troye should be the one blushing in this situation (and if he is, nobody has to know; Troye doesn’t blush).

Troye is awake fully now, the sleep and the embarrassment making him come to his senses and be more alert, and he leans back against the uncomfortable, metal chair. He really hopes there isn’t drool on the table.

He looks to the side of Connor, right where the till is, because he’s too embarrassed to look at him right now. “Sorry. I, uh, don’t usually have a tendency to fall asleep in such public places.” He looks up at him now, considering not looking at him would probably make it seem like he’s even weirder.

Connor smiles gently, like he understands. “It’s fine. I may have done it a few times myself. Plus, I think there were a few girls here earlier who were more than pleased by the sight, so you gained us some happy customers.”

Oh. Oh. Maybe Ricky didn’t tell him everything about him.

Connor gets them both new lattes and sits at Troye's table, sighing as he falls down to the chair. "Ahhhh, I swear I feel like I have been standing non-stop for months, even though it's actually been, like, seven hours."

"I know what that's like. I spent the last 16 hours in..." Troye means to say 'in the studio', but decides against it. He doesn't want to share everything with everyone right away, no matter how cute the person is. And damn, is Connor cute. "I had a long and pretty much awful day at work today, so yeah, I pretty much know how you're feeling," he finishes.

"Oh, what do you do?" Connor asks, smiling. Like does he ever stop smiling? Not that Troye minds, he's already quite fond of the smile.

"I'm in the... music business."

"What?” he asks, stretching out the word. “That's so cool. Do you ever get to meet any artists? Like, that sounds like a dream job, even if you don't get to meet anyone. I'd love nothing more than to work with just music day after day." Connor stops rambling suddenly, blushes bright red and facepalms himself. Troye didn't even know people still did that. 

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, you have had a terrible day and here I am, making it worse."

Troye laughs out loud at that. "You're not making it worse, no way! If anything, you're making it ten times better."

...Troye, you fucking idiot. You just practically confessed to a cute barista _you just met_ that you already have a crush on him. Well done, he thinks.

But Connor does not freak out and leave as soon as possible like Troye expects him to, he just beams at Troye and, after a second, Troye finds himself smiling back. And then they just keep smiling and staring at each other and, oh God, this is getting ridiculous.

"So which artists do you like?" Troye asks just to say something, and Connor starts listing his favourites. Which are all also Troye's favourites. He's literally smitten with this boy already.

"So, what music do you like, besides London Grammar, obviously?" Connor asks when he's finished, and again, Troye finds himself laughing loudly. He can't remember the last time he's laughed like this. It has probably been months.

Connor looks confused and a maybe little bit hurt before Troye explains, "You listed all my favourites already. Like, every single one." And then they're both laughing. And it feels so easy to laugh with Connor, to talk with him and even flirt with him a little. It feels like they have known each other for years. Troye doesn't know whether that's scary or amazing or both.

They just keep talking and talking until Troye looks at the clock and realises he has to be up in six hours. But he doesn't want to leave, thinks maybe he won't see Connor again and has to make the best of this. After a while he starts yawning really loudly, though, and that's when Connor notices the time, too.

"Oh my God, I have class in the morning," he sighs and starts getting up. Troye follows his lead. "I really should start going so I can catch at least some sleep."

Troye nods, starts to turn around when Connor grabs him by his sleeve and forces him to stop.

"Hey, this has been great, and I know this may sound a little bit weird, but I thought maybe we could exchange phone numbers?" Connor's looking straight into Troye's eyes with a little, hopeful smile, and his face is bright red again. Troye can't help but smile widely, the boy is just so cute.

"Yeah, okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

So they exchange phone numbers, and then, after trying to leave for like ten minutes, Troye finally leaves the cafe. He has a stupid smile on his face all the way home.

\--

“So, come on. Spill. Has he asked you out on a date yet?” Tyler asks from where he’s laying lackadaisically on the couch, his eyes determined.

“No, Tyler, he hasn’t. Because we’re just friends.” Although Troye would like to be more, he adds in his head. He gets up from the armchair and heads to the kitchen, his throat dry.

He knows Tyler is about to follow him like a lost puppy; he always has to be constantly updated on people’s love lives and, if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t stop until he was. (And, no. Troye doesn’t join in with him most of the time, because that would just be sad. He doesn’t care that he coaxed many people into admitting they were dating someone – he is just a good person to tell secrets to, obviously; he didn’t encourage anything.)

Low and behold, as Troye is pouring himself a glass of water, Tyler’s voice emanates through the kitchen. “You get a cute guy’s number and you’re just friends?” He hates that incredulous voice. “He does not want to be just friends, from what you have told me. Which, by the way, is very little. I can be your fairy godmother; let me solve all of your love problems!” Oh, God. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like if I were cupid. Imagine walking around all day in a nappy.”

Yeah, he definitely needs new friends. “Well, you act like a baby most of the time, so it would be fitting,” Troye replies, pointedly ignoring everything else. He leans back against the counter, facing Tyler, who is rooting through Troye’s fridge. He may as well face him. He’s relentless.

Tyler turns to face Troye, rolling his eyes. “And you want Connor to be your baby.” He winks.

“If you don’t shut up, I will punch you. And it will be fair.” It’s a futile effort, but. He can try.

“If you’re just friends, why won’t you let me read your texts with him? I need some excitement in my life, Troye! Be a good friend. Are you really going to deprive me of all this fun?”

As if on cue, his phone beeped. It took all he had to stare at Tyler, challenging him. He was not going to give in. He was not going to check his phone. They’re just friends; he doesn’t need to reply that quickly.

“Whatever. I need to pee.” Okay, so. Maybe Troye has no self-control but he can’t just leave Connor thinking he’s forgotten about him. Plus, they were having a very interesting conversation and Troye is very excited about the topic, not about the person who is texting him. He’s just very interested in cats.

Tyler smirks at him but says nothing, letting Troye stalk off to the bathroom.

It's not like Troye and Connor text all the time, even though everyone in Troye's life seems to think so (why he even told them about Connor is a mystery to him). They just update each other about their lives. Like, what they music they are listening to, what they are watching, eating, drinking, doing, basically if they are still breathing...

But it's completely normal for new friends to want to get to know each other, right? There's nothing but platonic, friendship-y feelings between them. Connor's straight, and they are just friends, and Troye is not trying to convince himself of that – he doesn't have to, because it's a fact.

Sometimes, he still wonders, though. Connor's really flirty, but that's normal; a lot of straight guys act like that with Troye. But in Troye's daydreams, Connor's serious, means every flirty text and wink face and, to be honest, Troye wants that to be the truth. Which kind of scares him, because what is he doing, falling for a guy he met less than a week ago and hasn't even seen since?

Troye could have gone to the coffee shop multiple times in the last week, even knows when Connor is at work so he could easily see him if he wanted to. But he's too nervous to go. He's afraid that maybe, if he actually sees Connor again, he'll read into every single detail too much, and do something stupid like kiss the boy. And then he would lose the only person he's ever made friends with so quickly.

He's tired of being scared, though. If he wants to see his friend, he's going to fucking see his friend. Put on his big boy pants and walk to the coffee shop and see Connor's gorgeous face agai— wait, no. Not gorgeous. His FRIENDly face. Connor's very, very friendly face.

So he texts Connor: 'Are you working atm?'

(Even though he knows Connor is, because he basically knows Connor's schedule. Shut up.)

'Yeah, why? You gonna pay me a visit and make my boring day much more interesting? ;)'

Troye wants to throw his phone at the wall because of how happy that text made him. 

'You wish.' He replies Connor and starts walking to the coffee shop. Hopefully, he'll make it out of there alive.

\--

The bell rings announcing the door has been opened, which is weird. Troye could swear that wasn’t there before.

He smiles when he hears Connor’s frantic, “Be there in a minute!” from where he’s got his back turned, fixing the coffee machine. It was probably his idea. Troye thinks that this is Connor’s dream; being surrounded by coffee and working in a cute little hipster coffee shop. He can already notice some of the changes Connor has made – he knows he made them, even after only speaking to him for a few days, because they are so him. Troye wonders how he convinced the boss to let him redecorate. Probably claimed that this is the way to gain new customers, to be all snobby and hipster-y and homely. Troye never thought that homely and snobby could be used in the same word, but apparently Connor has a knack for decorating that way.

Which. It’s odd, considering Connor is in no way snobby. (Troye pushes away the thought that Connor is homely because, no.)

He notes the pictures of maps and forests and decides he likes it better with the changes Connor has made. Connor has made him love the place even more. Although, he has put blankets over some of the sofa-like seats which, although look good, are kind of odd. At least people will be able to warm up in the winter, he supposes. They’re probably more for show than anything, considering the warm drinks are enough to warm you up. But Connor did it so Troye likes it. (He is in too deep now, he may as well admit it. And no, he is not thinking of the connotations behind that sentence and, no. He is not imagining what that would be like and, God –)

“Oh, hi!” Connor has turned around now, noticing him – interrupting him, thank God. “It’s you.” He beams at him.

“It me,” Troye replies. And Connor probably thinks that Troye is some weird unintelligible mess who can’t gather proper words when he’s in front of cute boys (which, to be fair, is true a lot of the time), but the truth is, he’s just weird. He doesn’t know what he would prefer Connor think.

Connor laughs, his whole face lighting up and his eyes scrunching. He’s even cuter when he laughs, Troye notes.

“So, I hear from some little birdy that you are going to make my day more interesting. I love coffee and I love working here, but there is only so much you can take.”

Troye sits down at the same table he slept on the last time he was here, and as Connor brings him his order, he says, "I get off in about half an hour, so if you don't mind waiting I was thinking we could get something to eat?" He's blushing once again, and Troye wonders if it's just around him or if Connor's always that red. He'd like to think it's the first one.

"Yeah, sounds good to me," he says, smiling up at Connor and the other boy just grins back for a few long moments before realising it's his turn to say something.

"Okay, good, um – chinese work for you?" he asks, his fingers strumming nervously against the table, and as soon as Troye nods, Connor is leaving, hurrying away, and Troye can't help wondering what that's all about. Unless...

Connor couldn't have meant it as a date, could he? Did Troye just get asked out without even noticing it was happening? But no, Connor was straight so he wouldn't ask another guy out. Right? Also, Connor thought Troye was straight, so there was no way it was a date. No freaking way.

Still, Troye had to escape to the bathroom, where he stood in front of a mirror staring at himself for over ten minutes. He was wearing a black T-shirt under a dark blue cardigan which was pretty much okay – it was casual, but wasn't that the point exactly? He also had his favourite jeans on, thank God. His hair was not messy, there were no spots on his face... All in all, he looked fine, but he couldn't help feeling like he should have put more effort into the way he looked before coming over.

But then again, if this was a date (which it most likely wasn't), Connor was going on it in his work clothes after having an eight hour shift, so who cared. It was going to be cool, and casual, and totally not a date. Troye was ninety eight percent sure of that.

He only realised how long he had spent in the bathroom when he came out and saw that Connor was already finishing off work, signing to Troye that he would only take a few minutes more. Troye sat down again, his fingers nervously jumping on his knee as he waited for his not-date to begin. Because there was absolutely no way it was a date, right?

“So, I was thinking we could, uh, go to Hot Kitchen?” Connor being nervous is making Troye nervous and God damnit, why has he got to be so shy? Troye can’t show his nerves right now because, although Connor is, that would probably make him even more nervous and freaked out because he’ll probably think that Troye thinks that they’re going on a date and oh God, why did he agree to this again? He can’t deal with going on not-dates with cute straight guys who don’t think it’s a date but are constantly nervous because it makes him want to smother them with hugs and kisses and he just –

Troye cuts off the rambling in his head when he realises he’s staring at Connor, who is going redder and redder by the second, and thinks Troye should probably reply. “That sounds great. I love that place.”

Connor smiles brightly (well, as brightly as you can through the nerves) and nods. “Me too.”

And they’re just staring at each other and it’s awkward and one of them should probably say something, Troye thinks, but he has to admit that he is enjoying the view. Troye should probably stop treating this as though it’s a date. Maybe that would make it less awkward and dissipate the nerves.

“I have to go take this apron off, obviously, and close up, but then I’m all yours,” Connor says hurriedly. And Troye is not going to think about the connotations behind the latter part of the sentence because it was a figure of speech; it does not mean anything.

\--

‘I think we should play twenty questions’ is never a question – statement – Troye wants to hear because he always ends up admitting to things he doesn’t want to, but. For some reason, right now, he does not mind hearing those words.

Before he can reply, though, the waiter comes over and pours them each a glass of water. “Would you care to taste our wine with your meal?” he asks, facing Connor. Connor turns toward Troye, waiting for an answer, and he shakes his head. He hates that he’s old enough to drink in Australia but not here; it’s like torture, really – he waits ages to be able to drink legally only to not be able to do it anymore.

“Water will do, thanks.” He smiles.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter replies to both of them this time, walking off to serve another table.

“So, assuming you agreed to my statement before we were interrupted, my first question will be – drumroll, please – how old are you?”

Troye’s confused for a second, before realising that they never actually said how old they were. He just assumed Ricky had told him, considering he told him who Troye was. He hopes Connor doesn’t think he’s 12 years old because it’s not hard to confuse him for one, but he doubts Connor would even have spoken to him if he thought that. Now that he thinks about it, he wonders how old Connor is.

“I am 19. Which is why I said no to the wine, sadly. It’s one of the things I hate about living here.” He makes a dramatic sad face, and Connor laughs. “My question: who is your favourite Friends character?”

“That is very sad.” He pauses, as if in thought. “What a deep question,” he laughs. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me how old I am.”

“Well, that would be wasting questions. Besides, I am pretty sure I can guess. You’re – what? About 20? 21? And no, that is not a question. I am making it rhetorical. Don’t answer it.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those people.” Troye doesn’t know what ‘people’ he is referring to, but he has learned to accept Connor’s weird ways. “And the answer to your question is, I am going to have to say, Phoebe.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those people,” Troye says, trying his best to imitate the tone of which Connor said it.

"Yeah, I'm totally one of those people," Connor winks and Troye feels his face going hot. He focuses on his food for a moment, waiting for Connor to continue playing the game.

"So, who's your biggest celebrity crush?" Connor finally starts talking again, and fortunately that's an easy question for Troye to answer.

"Zac Efron, without a doubt."

Connor raises his eyebrows, seems confused for a second and then looks thoughtful, like he's considering the answer. "Yeah, I can totally see that. You're way out of his league, though," Connor teases the younger boy who's suddenly the one blushing and clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Okay, so what's your most embarrassing memory?" Troye asks quickly to change the subject, and Connor laughs, throwing his head back. Troye thinks that he might be in love with Connor's laugh. And no, no – he shouldn't be thinking like that.

"You promise not to laugh or run away or something?" When Troye nods, Connor continues. "I might have sent a sext to my grandma once."

Troye tries to hide his laughter, but he literally can't, and soon he's crying because he's laughing so hard and Connor's hiding his face, laughing at himself, too. "What did it say?" Troye wants to know.

"I don't even remember, I think I have blocked the memory or something because it was literally the most mortifying thing ever," Connor snorts. "My turn to ask, though, so while we are on the theme of family, what's yours like?"

Troye has to think about it for a minute, how to describe his family, especially since he would rather not cry right now.

"My family is, um, very open and close and I don't know, very loving. Like always telling each other that they are loved and appreciated. That's maybe one of the things I miss most about them." Troye sighs. "Since there's four of us kids and we were home-schooled, we are basically all each other's best friends. I feel like even mum and dad are some of my closest friends. It's great, to be honest."

Connor looks understanding, his hand twitching on the table, like he's not sure if he can touch Troye, but finally decides against it and leans back in his chair. "Yeah, I get that. I see my family rarely too and miss them all the time, but I still see them a lot more often than you do." Connor half smiles.

"It sucks, doesn't it?" Troye agrees, and Connor just nods.

After a moment of silence, Connor lifts his head up, grins and says, "Okay, no more upsetting questions. Let's just have one. So, would you rather never listen to music again or never use internet again?"

Troye's actually offended. "You can't ask something like that! You just can't! It's like making me choose between living and breathing," he shouts.

Connor starts laughing at Troye's reaction, and soon the younger boy joins in, thinking if this is a date, this is probably the best one he's ever had in his life.

They eat, laugh, argue playfully and finally finish the 20 questions game. When they are ready to leave and the waiter brings their cheque, Connor insists on paying, reasoning it with Troye saving his awful day. Troye finally agrees, but the whole thing makes this feel more and more like a date. It's all so confusing, but, to be honest, Troye's not even sure he wants to know what this is, he just wants to enjoy Connor's company and how happy it makes him feel.

"Where do you live?" Connor asks when they step out of the restaurant to the busy street. It's already close to midnight, but like the saying goes, New York never sleeps. When Troye tells Connor his address, the other boy smiles wildly.

"That's in my direction, too, so we can walk together."

So they start walking. Troye looks around him and thinks that, maybe, New York's not such a bad place after all.

\--

‘lol ok so would you rather lick zac efron’s face or taylor lautner’s abs?’ Troye stares at the text again. How did their texting progress to this? Troye has no idea. He’s not complaining, though. Any topic about Zac Efron and licking is a good one.

He sends back ‘zac efron’s face, obviously. i am not about that taylor lautner life’ before quickly adding ‘unless it doesn’t involve making me choose between him and my buddy zac’.

He’s glad that Connor isn’t some homophobic douche, which he didn’t think Connor was, but there’s always that worry. He didn’t think that Connor would be this comfortable about talking about licking boys, but. He’s full of surprises, apparently.

Troye's phone beeps again with a new text.

'are you coming to the coffee shop tonight?'

'yeah, maybe, after i'm done at the studio' Troye replies. It's already been a long day and they aren't even done yet, one more song left to record. Troye wishes he could just get the EP out already and spend more time with his friends. And Connor. Especially Connor.

Troye opens Connor's reply, freezes for a moment and then snorts so loudly that everyone in the room looks at him strangely.

'what are you wearing?' the message says.

'ARE YOU SEXTING ME?!??' Troye sends back.

'NO?! What kind of a girl do you think I am? I go to church every sunday, just so you know!'

Now Troye's laughing so hard he has to excuse himself to the bathroom. When he gets there, he locks the door and texts Connor back.

'sorry, forgot you were such a daddy's girl'

'i don't have a daddy :( you wanna be mine?'

That makes Troye laugh so hard that he has tears in his eyes and he literally can't answer for two whole minutes, his hands holding his stomach that's really starting to hurt from all the laughing.

'omg stop i think you might have just killed me' he finally texts back.

'hahahahaha have a good day at work honey boo xxxxxxxx' is what Connor replies.

\-- 

Five – fucking five – hours later, Troye finally is done with recording and heads straight to the coffee shop. If this was not the most stressful day of his life, he didn't know what was. But, thank God, the EP is ready now – well, at least his part is. Now he finally has time to, you know, eat and sleep and breathe. Have a social life, even. Maybe. 

When he gets to the shop, he sees that Connor's busy serving other customers so he just sits at his usual table and waits for Connor to bring him coffee.

"You look like you need energy so I put an extra shot in this," Connor says as he puts the cup in front of Troye. "My break is in ten minutes, see ya then." And like that, the boy is already walking off. And no, Troye does not stare at his ass. No way; that's not happening. 

So for ten minutes, Troye just watches Connor work. It's clearly a busy day, so Connor's basically running all over the coffee shop, his face all red and a little bit sweaty. He still looks so good, though. And happy, like he's actually enjoying talking to all these strangers and being busy. Maybe it's the rush – the adrenaline.

Troye loves seeing Connor like this, which is a strange thing to say, he knows, but it's just that Connor's happy and that's making Troye really happy, too. Suddenly he realises that he's forgotten all the stress and his earlier bad mood. That's why he comes to the coffee shop even after a long, horrible day. He knows that Connor will always make him feel better. Troye can't believe they have known each other for less than a month, because it feels like it's been years.

"So, ready to talk about your day?" Connor asks as he sits down opposite Troye.

"Yeah, no, it's nothing. I just got all the recoding done for the EP," Troye tells him. Connor had been very excited when Troye had told him that rather than just working in the music business, he was actually a singer. And that he was making an EP. After that, Connor had been asking about the songs and the recording all the time.

"Oh my god, congrats!" Connor leans over the table to hug Troye and almost knocks both of their cups down. 

"Okay, okay, calm down," Troye laughs as they both settle down again. "It's still not done, and the EP is not coming out for months."

"It's still exciting!" Connor grins genuinely. "Also, now you have more time to hang out with me. Which is even better news."

Troye blushes, but nods.

"Speaking of, do you wanna come over to my place tonight? Tangled is on TV and I feel weird watching children's films alone. It seems very paedophilic." Connor laughs.

Troye's shocked for a moment, because they haven't been to each other's places yet and ohmygod, this could be very, very bad, but how could he say no to an offer like that?

"I'd love to," he finally agrees.

\--

Troye loses track of time and space when he’s around Connor, which is so fucking cliché and Troye hates being the epitome of a cliché, but sometimes you’ve just got to be truthful. He feels like he’s in some unrequited love film and he’s the idiot who pines, except it won’t turn out great for him; they won’t become an item and he’ll get his fucking heartbroken in the process but he can’t help this nagging at the pit of the stomach.

He knows other people call them butterflies, but it’s not a nice feeling – it’s magnified tenfold and it makes his stomach twist and turn when he just sees Connor, never mind when he does something cute or funny or so very Connor. His heart aches and it feels like it’s going to break free from his ribcage and he doesn’t care how dramatic he’s being, doesn’t care about anything but Connor and the way Connor makes him feel. Because it’s not a nice feeling, but it’s settling.

It feels normal – it feels _important_.

He talks to Connor for as long as he can in the coffee shop. He scrambles for the attention from him and every moment he can get to talk to him. He sits at one of the stools by the till now, so that he can talk to Connor when he hasn’t got a customer. And it’s so clingy and Troye knows he needs to back off, but Connor is smiling at him and laughing at every little thing he says and his eyes are full of Troye when they’re not on customers; Connor has this thing where he can make you feel like you’re the only person in the room. And he doesn’t think Connor minds.

He forgets how long he’s sat there talking to him – it could be minutes or hours, he doesn’t know. If it weren’t for the Sun and the need to turn the ‘Open’ sign to the ‘Closed’ sign, Troye would think that it were days.

He forgets that there are people living their lives around them, getting their daily coffee fix. He forgets to wonder who they are and what they’re doing and why they need coffee and what their lives are like, like he usually does.

He forgets that he’s had a really fucking stressful, tiring day and he thinks, no amount of coffee could keep me awake like you do.

He isn’t even looking at Connor anymore, because he knows his emotions would be pouring out of his face, his eyes – his body language. The place has had an influx of customers and Connor is busy serving them and Troye’s stirring another coffee – one of the few he actually remembered to buy; it’s not even like a coffee shop anymore; it’s his and Connor’s meeting place. It’s Troye’s security net. It’s where he goes when he’s feeling down and wants lifting up. And he sucks at metaphors, but. This place is Connor.

He’s so screwed.

He sips his coffee, trying to push away all his thoughts, and it distracts him, for a bit. Until he starts thinking about how nice the coffee is and he thinks back to the day he met Connor and laughs at how naïve he was, thinking Connor couldn’t even make a latte. He makes the best damn coffees Troye’s ever had.

He shakes his head, in another attempt to rid his mind of the thoughts and his stomach of the feelings. He looks at his watch for the first time, coming back to reality.

It’s 9pm, which means that Connor will be finishing his shift soon. He wonders how he’s going to get rid of all the customers without making them annoyed. But he looks up, coming out of his reverie, and notices that the place is nearly empty, and Connor is washing the dishes. He doesn’t understand how Connor can work this shift all on his own.

And fuck, Troye thinks, he’s going to have to go over to Connor’s place soon. He’s gonna fuck everything up, he knows it. He can feel his feelings simmering at the surface and he thinks they’re going to explode and Connor will drown in them, trying to reach for the surface so that he can breathe; so that he can escape the grip that’s pulling, pulling, pulling.

Everything would be so much simpler if Troye could make the water peaceful; could make Connor stop panicking and let them get to the surface calmly together, or maybe even make a new life in the water.

But it’s just not in Connor’s biology.

Speaking of – or thinking of, whatever – Connor interrupts his grand, soppy soliloquy and says, “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to die?” He looks genuinely concerned.

“I –.” Pull yourself together, he thinks. “I’m good. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’ve just got to lock up,” Connor replies. And he still looks so concerned but he’s trying to cover it with a bright smile, which Troye doesn’t doubt is genuine. He always seems to be smiling. Troye simultaneously loves and hates it.

And no matter how Troye is feeling, the smile brightens his day and allows him to smile back, without any fake-ness. He smiles big and nearly as bright as Connor (and, no. Troye isn’t thinking about how that makes Connor sound like he’s the Sun and Troye is the moon, orbiting the Sun, but never close enough. And he definitely doesn’t think about how, if they collide, there’d be havoc and explosions and everything would be out of balance and wrong – everything would be destroyed).

\--

They walk back to Connor’s house, considering it’s only a few blocks away and, even if they wanted to drive, neither of them were currently in possession of a car. Troye’s was back at his place and Connor’s was back at his place – their own places, respectively, Troye corrects in his head. It’s nice, walking like this with Connor. It’s quiet out and they talk in hushed tones, as though they’re going to disrupt the sombre-ness of the evening.

It is dark out save for the few city lights visible which bathe the streets in artificial warm lighting. It’s pretty, Troye thinks. He wishes he were back home with Connor beside him, away from the urbanised city, so that they could look up and see all the different constellations Troye doesn’t know the names of. Maybe Connor does, he thinks. He could point out all the stars and tell Troye the story behind them, about how they make patterns that allow people to recognise them. And they could be like kids again, trying to see what patterns they can make with different constellations instead of clouds.

When they get to Connor's apartment, the first thing he does is feed his cats. As the two black-and-white cats start eating, Connor introduces them as Lucy and Luna. "You want something to drink? You can even have alcohol here," he then asks Troye, who just shakes his head.

Troye is staring at everything, walking around the living room that opens from the kitchen and touching all the little figures and other random objects on the shelves. Then he finds a photo album, flicks it open, and starts laughing hysterically.

"What?" Connor appears from the kitchen, alarmed by the noise. "Oh my God, I forgot about that. I was meant to hide it before bringing you here."

Something in that sentence makes Troye stop laughing, lift his gaze to Connor and ask, "You been planning on bringing me here for long now, or?"

The question makes Connor blush, clearly realising what he's just said. "Since our first date," he confesses.

This makes Troye freeze completely, his brains stop working and he can barely catch a breath, though he manages to get out with a little, tiny voice that's much higher than his voice normally. "Date?"

Now it's Connor's turn to look shocked.

"I mean, yeah? Unless I have read this completely wrong, fuck, you're straight, aren't you? I mean, I thought so first but then you talked about boys all the time and flirted and I kind of let myself wish and..." Troye's still silent, still frozen, as Connor's voice fades off.

"Fuck, Troye, please, just say something." Connor sniffs, like he's trying not to cry and that thought finally makes Troye react.

He opens his mouth, closes it after a second, opens it again and says, "Yeah, I think I'm a little bit in love with you."

At this, Connor's head shoots up, his eyes wide and red, but his mouth smiling so wide that all in all he looks like a lunatic. Troye doesn't care, though, because his mind is full of incoherent thoughts, all circling around one fact: Connor thought we were dating, Connor must like me if he thought we were dating, he thinks. And then Troye's smiling, too, walking closer and closer to Connor.

"Yeah, same," Connor whispers when Troye is close enough to hear. Then with a little louder voice he says, looking straight into Troye's eyes, "I've just been wondering why you haven't kissed me yet, to be honest."

Troye stares at him, his brain trying to work what to do and then he just pulls Connor in, smashes their lips together and quickly works his tongue into Connor's mouth, deepening the kiss. It feels like it's trying to make up for all the moments they could have been kissing already if Troye hadn't been so stupid. It's like thousand kisses in one, crazy little moment, and then those thousand kisses explode and Connor is backing Troye against a wall, pressing against him and holy shit, Troye really needs air.

They both breathe heavily as their lips separate, staring into each other's eyes. Troye's pretty sure he sees stars in Connor's, but that might just be the lack of oxygen talking.

Finally, Connor smiles, the most real smile Troye has yet seen from him, and noses Troye's chin as he whispers, "Well, that was something."

"What, you think we're done already?" Troye teases, biting lightly on Connor's earlobe. Connor apparently tickles there, because he makes a little scream-y noise and pushes away from Troye. 

"You little--" he starts, but Troye's already gotten enough of talking and shut the other boy up with another kiss, this time a little slower and more gentle. His hands wander on Connor's back, pulling him closer so their chests are against each other, but when that still doesn't feel close enough, he starts pulling at the hem of Connor's shirt.

Connor stops kissing for a moment, looks at Troye seriously like trying to figure out if this is actually happening, if Troye actually wants this, and Troye nods and gives him little pecks on the lips and down his neck, until finally Connor moves away to pull off his shirt and throw it on the floor. Troye does the same, and then they go back to kissing, both shirtless now, their hands getting to know each other's bodies. Connor's much more muscular than Troye is, and he feels so strong and warm and Troye's mind goes to places that it shouldn't. Which also makes his dick wake up.

"You wanna see my bedroom now?" Connor asks between the kisses with a teasing tone, and Troye nods, too embarrassed and excited at the same time to get a word out of his mouth.

Connor grabs Troye's hand in his and leads the younger boy into his bedroom. It's quite pretty, with lights over the bed and cute little stuff everywhere. Troye has time to notice few of his favourite books on the table before he's being pulled back into a kiss again. 

They slowly get closer to the bed, Connor walking backwards, and then suddenly Troye's on top of Connor on a bed and wow, that's something. Like, this is actually going somewhere. Troye's heart has never beaten this fast in his whole life.

Connor's hands are on Troye's ass now, pulling his hips down and his own hips are grinding against Troye's. Troye can feel his erection even through four layers of fabric, and he just wants, wants more, wants closer, and starts grinding against Connor, too, their hips moving in perfect sync and the room filling with muffled curses, heavy breaths and them calling each other's names, over and over and over again.

And then they are both coming, coming in their fucking boxers without even getting their jeans off first, and Troye's giggling a bit because it's so ridiculous but it's still one of the best feelings. He feels all happy and warm and, well, giggly, free of all worries and insecurities. Connor falls down next to him, breathing long and deep a few times and then turning on his side to look at Troye, a wide smile on his face.

"Hi, you," he says, and Troye turns to face him and kisses him, more gentle and intimate than any of their kisses before.

"Hi to you, too."

"You still wanna watch Tangled?" Connor asks while getting up, offering a hand to Troye which the other boy grabs eagerly.

"Yeah, if we can make out at the same time," Troye grins, let's Connor pull him up but doesn't let go of his hand, instead linking their fingers and squeezing tight.

Connor grins back, saying, “I wouldn’t watch it if we couldn’t.”

They change out of their dirty clothes and Troye has to wear Connor’s boxers and trousers and they dwarf him, which is ultimately embarrassing but also makes Troye very happy; he likes the fact that Connor is much bigger than him.

Once they’re changed, they go into the living room and Connor puts the DVD in the player.

\--

Before Troye watched Tangled, he knew little about the film. After Troye watched Tangled, he still knew little about the film. Instead of paying attention, they curled up on Connor’s couch together under a blanket and made out. Like, constantly.

By the time the film finishes, Troye’s lips are swollen and his breathing is jagged and his chest is burning and he feels amazing. How did he get so lucky? He’s dating this fucking amazing boy who is an amazing kisser and an even more amazing person, which is saying something.

Connor stares at him, smiling, his eyes scrunching and his face soft. “That was a good film.”

Troye laughs quietly, pecking him on the lips. Now that he knows he can kiss him and touch him, he doesn’t think he can stop. “I know. There was a lot of talent in it.” He kisses him again, tightening his arms around Connor.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know we were dating.”

“I thought you were straight!” Troye says joke-indignantly.

Connor laughs, as though it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Troye pouts.

“I blushed every time you so much as looked at me! I’m not exactly stereotypically straight-acting, either, am I?”

Troye huffs. “I thought you were just generally nervous when you spoke to people! And I don’t base my judgements on stereotypes. Why couldn’t you have just said you wanted to lick Zac Efron’s face or Taylor Lautner’s abs? Not that I’m bitter or anything, but we could have been kissing a lot sooner.” And no, Troye does not kiss him again. Because that would be ridiculous.

\--

Troye spends the night at Connor's, and the next morning he sleeps late and wakes up to a note from Connor who had already gone to class. Troye ends up showering and getting ready at Connor's, and leaves around noon wearing Connor's clothes (they smell so much like Connor that Troye either wants to bury his face in them or cry). He smiles the whole way to the recording studio, where he's confronted by a lot of angry faces.

"Where have you been? We have been trying to call you the whole morning," his manager says, and Troye picks his phone from his pocket just to see that it's dead.

"Oh, sorry, the battery died. And I slept in. So what's happening that's so urgent?" 

His manager sighs. "You have a surprise gig in eight hours. At one of the most popular clubs in Manhattan. No big deal."

Troye's eyes get so big he's afraid they'll pop out. "Shit!"

The afternoon is a mess of rehearsals and testing the mics and the instruments and stuff, but at some point Troye manages to get a break for five minutes and immediately texts Connor: 

'so, I've got a gig tonight. SURPRISE! (it was a surprise to me ok) wanna come?'

'obviously, just tell me when and where' Connor answers a few minutes later.

So Troye gives Connor the information, his fingers strumming nervously against his leg as he waits for the answer. Seeing Connor after last night... Troye knew they were something, but he still had no idea what to call them. They hadn't really talked last night. So it could be really awkward. Or it could be the best night ever.

'it's a date ;)" Connor's reply reads, and Troye smiles at his phone, thinking maybe it's all gonna be this easy. Maybe they just fit together so well, like two puzzle pieces, that it's all going to be simple and perfect and they can have a little fairytale of their own.

\--

Troye loves the feeling of performing. The nerves bubble to the surface before he goes on, but when he gets on stage they all explode and adrenaline kicks in and he’s breathing in the audience, the atmosphere, the music, everything. He’s not himself anymore; he is the beat of the music, the sound of the rhythm, the smell of the guitar. He is the stage and the instruments and he is omnipresent.

It’s no different today, as he plays his favourite song off the EP: Happy Little Pill. Performing makes him forget about everything – all the stress, all the tiredness; he feels the music and he’s transported to another dimension where there is only music, only performing, only him and the rhythm of the crowd, only blurred faces moving in time to the slow beat of his song.

The chorus is kicking in and he’s singing, singing the best he possibly has, and he feels like he’s floating in a sea of unfamiliar faces. He catches Connor’s eyes in the crowd when he finally opens them and he smiles bright, as bright as he can when he’s singing. His face lights up and he’s still the music, but the music has become better, has found that missing piece that fits it together and makes it great.

And Connor is standing there, dancing with the crowd, and he has this look of awe on his face, like he can’t believe the world is real. He looks like he’s been woken up and he’s seeing the world for the first time – hearing music for the first time. And Troye can’t handle that; can’t handle that feeling of pure happiness – the feeling of watching someone he’s fucking in love with look so in love with him and look so proud.

He’s strumming his guitar and the drums are beating to the rhythm of his heart and he can see Connor mouthing ‘I love you’ and he feels like he’s on top of the fucking world. 

When Troye finally gets off stage for good, after the audience demands him back two times, he just wants to see Connor. He has so much to say to the boy, and so many kisses, oh, all the kisses. But instead of Connor, he spots mint coloured hair and runs up to Tyler.

"Tyyy, you came!" He pulls the older guy into a hug and smashes a big kiss on his cheek. Tyler's legendary laugh rings in his ears, it's so loud. "I haven't seen you in ages, bae."

"Don't I know it, I have been missing you but it's just been so busy, I literally flew from London three hours---" Someone clearing their throat interrupts Tyler, and he and Troye both turn to see who it is.

Connor's standing at the door, looking awkward and confused and just over all uncomfortable in his own skin right now. He's staring at Troye's hands still hanging on Tyler's shoulders, and as soon as Troye notices this he quickly pulls away and stalks toward Connor.

"I just, umm..." Connor's eyes alternate between Troye and Tyler a few times, but then stop on the younger boy. "I just wanted to tell you that I thought you were absolutely amazing out there. I can see why you love doing it so much. But, um, I have a shift at the coffee shop so I kind of need to go...."

"Oh my Goood, is this the coffee shop boy?" Tyler almost screams, and Troye quickly covers his ears, knowing how loud Tyler can get when he gets excited. "You have been holding out on me, he's even cuter than you said! Awww, aren't you two adorable, both blushing so hard! What, are you two still not a thing because I swear, if you're not, I'm free for taking," Tyler winks at Connor.

"Tyler, shut up. Connor, meet Tyler, my friend who I'm sometimes really embarrassed to call my friend," Troye sighs.

Connor looks shocked, his mouth hanging open. "Friend? Uhm. Yeah, obviously, a friend. Uhh, it's nice to meet you," he quickly glances at Tyler and then returns his gaze to Troye again, now looking at him like he's the best thing he's ever seen.

Suddenly Troye seems to get it.

"Oh God, ew, did you think, ew, that me and Tyler are a thing?" Troye's voice almost betrays him and he wants to laugh, that's how ridiculous the thought is for him. "Just no, ewwww."

Tyler's laughing with his head thrown back now, and Connor's looking both embarrassed and relieved at the same time, and how the fuck is it even possible for a human being to be that cute? Troye knows he needs to talk to him, though – or rather, they need to talk about this, about what the hell this is.

So he grabs Connor's hand, says, "Hi, Tyler, was nice to see you Tyler, bye Tyler," and pulls Connor into the hallway and then another room with him. Thank God the room is already empty, because as soon as the door is closed, Troye can't help but push Connor against it and smash their mouths almost violently together.

When they come up for air, Troye smiles and says, "I can't believe you thought last night would have happened if I had a thing with someone else."

Connor looks down, his face redder than ever. "I'm sorry, I just. I get jealous pretty easily. And jump to conclusions easily. I'm such an idiot."

Troye smiles, presses a small, soft kiss on Connor's lips.

"But you are my idiot, right?"

Connor's eyes get wide. "You mean, like, am I your boyfriend? Because hells yeah, if you want me to."

"Did you just actually say 'hells yeah'? I'm already starting to regret this, boyfriend." Troye giggles against Connor's neck, and then they are kissing again, Troye whispering 'mine' between kisses, every time making Connor smile like the idiot that he is.


End file.
